Going Home

The chilling metallic shrieks from the train’s breaks cut through the diesel heavy air and dissolve into the ocean of sound created by people passing in and out of automatic doors, crying snot nosed toddlers harnessed in neon colored strollers and the occasional bark of leashed dogs eager to get the hell out of this acoustic inferno, their wet round eyes screaming for any measure of mercy that might be bestowed upon their canine souls, while their equally tormented owners fumble their way through itineraries and cell phone apps, some apparently successful, most shrugging the shrugs of the technology defeated.